


With This Ring

by drew



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-11
Updated: 2006-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drew/pseuds/drew
Summary: This is (obviously) AU and grew out of several conversations through LiveJournal and email.





	

With This Ring  
Jared/Jensen weddingfic, R/NC-17 (there's porn in here, too, people)  
7,900 words  
In some parallel universe, Jared is sure, this goes off without a hitch. In this one, he's sweating through two pair of socks and there are darkening circles spreading out from his armpits. He knocks on Jensen's apartment door by habit, even though they've been, for lack of a better term, dating for months now. It's part good boy manners, part fear of pranking; the inflatable dinosaur incident is not something he's going to forget soon, no matter how much he wants to.  
  
Jensen yells something and Jared takes that as an invitation, twisting his key in the lock and sticking his head in the doorway. "You hiding somewhere?" He enters and the door slams shut behind him, adding another six or seven thousand beats per minute to his already frantic pulse.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses." The voice comes from the bathroom, and Jared has a feeling he's barged in while Jensen's on the crapper. How romantic.  
  
"Uh, maybe I better come back some other..." He hears a flush and the sink turns on. Definitely the crapper. "Ah, shit," he mutters. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, a dark button-up that he hopes makes him look serious.  
  
Jensen comes in from the bedroom wiping his hands on the seat of his jeans. "You look fancy. What, are we going out?"  
  
Jared's speechless. He rehearsed this so many goddamned times, and now he can't even open his mouth. He looks at Jensen, helpless. Jensen raises an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey, Jare, what is it?" Silence. "Jared."  
  
"Wilymerme," Jared gets out, and then suddenly it's like a weight off his shoulders -- he's said it, even if it was completely unintelligible. He looks right at Jensen and says it again, slower. "Will you marry me?"  
  
Now it's Jensen's turn to play mute, as he looks at Jared, who is so terribly earnest that this _can't_ be a prank. He blinks a couple times.  
  
Jared pulls a ring out of his jeans, and it's silver and on the thick side and totally something Jensen would wear. He holds it out to Jensen. "Will you?"  
  
Jensen opens his mouth a couple times, trying to find words. When he finally does speak, it's not exactly the reaction Jared had been hoping for. "You're shitting me."  
  
***  
  
The phone rings once, twice, then, "Hey Jare, you do it yet?"  
  
"Guess again, Murray. D'you put him up to this?"  
  
"Jen!"  
  
"Wait, what? Ackles, the fuck are you doing on Jared's phone?"  
  
"Did you put him up to this? Because if you did, I will get Chris and Steve and we will come down on you like--"  
  
"Jen!"  
  
"The fuck are you talking about? Jesus, no wonder Jared wanted to marry you; you're both fucking psychotic."  
  
"Hey, at least he waited a good six months to pop the question, cradle robber."  
  
"Jensen!"  
  
"You mean he went through with it? Oh man, boy's got more balls than I gave him credit for. He there?"  
  
"Did you put him up to it?"  
  
Jared snatches the phone from Jensen's hand. "Chad? Jen'll have to call you back, alright?" He thumbs the END button and tosses the phone on Jensen's couch.  
  
"Gimme back my phone!"  
  
"Actually, it's my phone, and no. Not until you calm the fuck down, okay?" Jensen struggles, but Jared just kind of envelops him and starts kissing the back of his neck and Jensen's protests die. "Now, are you gonna calm down and stop verbally assaulting my friends, or do I need to tell Chad to get a restraining order? That might prove to be a bad thing, because if you think I'm going to stop having him over if we get married, you're out of your mi--"  
  
"There you go with that marriage thing again."  
  
"'Cause I mean it, Jensen."  
  
"You've been taking personal life advice from Murray again, haven't you?"  
  
Jared grins. "You're a long way from eighteen."  
  
Jensen stiffens. "Are you trying to tell me I'm old?"  
  
"Nah, just right." Jared goes up on the balls of his feet and rests his chin on Jensen's head, a maneuver that never fails to piss Jensen off. "So, you gonna think about it?"  
  
"You really are serious about this?"  
  
"Course I am." Jared's hand slips into his pocket and he pulls out the ring again. "Would I have bought you this, otherwise?"  
  
Jensen takes it and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, then slips it on his right ring finger. "You know I'd wear it on the left if you wanted me to," he says, his voice low. "But this'll solve a lot of problems."  
  
"No, it's--I get it. And I lo--"  
  
"I know. Me too."  
  
***  
  
"So here's the hard part," Jared begins.  
  
"I can see the hard part from here, Jare." Jensen's eyebrow and grin are both cocked. If he goes off, Jared has a feeling he'll be pinned to the trailer's couch.  
  
Jared smacks him. "Will you get your mind out of my pants for a minute? This is gonna be a hell of a job."  
  
"What is?" Jensen's grin falters and he tenses up, prepared for the worst.  
  
"We both have mommas from Texas." Jared says it in the voice he saves for Sam telling Dean about things like flesh-eating demons.  
  
Jensen relaxes back into his chair. "Dude, chill. My momma's not exactly PFLAGging around Richardson, but she's. She knows. And your momma let us sleep in the same room when we went to visit that backwater you call home."  
  
Jared shoots him a withering look. "Jackass, you still don't get it, do you? Two Texas mommas. Can you even imagine how we're going to get them to agree on anything for the wedding?"  
  
"Say that again."  
  
"What?" Jared's startled out of his worry.  
  
"Dude, say it again."  
  
"What, can you imagine them agreeing on anything for the wedding?"  
  
Jensen's grin swallows his face. "You said 'wedding'."  
  
"That's, uh. That's what it is, right? I mean."  
  
"Shit, yeah. But swear to god, I love hearing you say that. And you're funny when you're nervous." He doesn't have to say that "funny" means "adorable"; Jared knows.  
  
"Yeah, fuck off," he says, but he runs his fingers through his hair, then blushes. "Are you thinking about this or not? I mean, Jesus, Jen, this is--"  
  
"Hey, calm down. It's okay, huh?"  
  
"No, it's. It's just. Kind of a big deal, you know?"  
  
"People go through it all the time; it can't be that bad."  
  
"Yeah, but they've got stuff like 'mother of the bride does this', 'father of the bride does that'. I'm assuming I don't have to spell out the problem with that?"  
  
"I suppose 'small private ceremony' hadn't occurred to you?" The little twist of Jensen's mouth does enough to color that phrase with the Hollywood connotation it deserves and makes Jared's throat harden up a little.  
  
"Do you think your momma's going to let you off with just a 'small private ceremony'? I know for damn sure mine isn't."  
  
***  
  
"So I don't think we want roses; it's too corny, too traditional. Do you have any suggestions for something a little more, uh. Masculine? God, that sounds corny too. But really, do you?" Jared's deep in discussion with the florist his momma picked out, while Jensen ambles around the shop and greenhouse and tunes them out.  
  
Jensen wonders, for about the sixty-fifth time that afternoon, how Jared can care this much about flowers. Of course, Jared had said the same thing about him and tux vests. And invitations. But geez, it's not like someone was going to judge you by your flowers -- and flowers they wouldn't even keep. Invitations, now... invitations are the gold standard of scrapbooking Southern mommas everywhere. Flowers wilt. Invitations in silver and black ink on acid-free card stock are forever.  
  
He pauses in the doorway between the greenhouse and the main shop and watches Jared, bent practically in half to look at sample books with the thirtysomething blonde florist. Jared's finger tracing a pattern on the laminated binder pages, Jared's shirt just above his jeans in the back, Jared's shaggy hair. Did they have a word for "besotted in the extreme"?  
  
Jared's return to the world of correct posture signals the end of flower shopping. The florist thanks the two of them and is rewarded with a Dean smile from Jensen and a real smile from Jared, two sets of famous, lightly bleached teeth thanking her for her time.  
  
They step back out into the soggy heat and Jensen resists the urge to sprint for the pickup. It'd be hotter in the truck anyway, and it wouldn't stop him from sweating. "You sure everything'll ship okay?"  
  
Jared slows a little. "Wait, ship?"  
  
"Get in the truck."  
  
"No, what do you mean, 'ship'?"  
  
"Get. In. The. Truck. God, does shit weather follow you or something?"  
  
"Jen -- what?"  
  
"That's it. Keys, now." Jensen holds out his hand.  
  
Jared blinks, then says in the most insincere voice he can manage, "Oh, of course, here you are," and makes a show of producing the keys from his pocket. When Jensen's hand comes forward to take them, Jared yanks them away and laughs. "Yeah, right I'm gonna let you drive my pickup."  
  
"In a couple months you'll have to!"  
  
Jared beams.  
  
***  
  
It's nearly midnight before Jared remembers Jensen's bit about shipping flowers, or at least that's what Jensen hopes, since if Jared waited until he was nearly asleep to ask, that's just not playing fair. "So what's this about shipping?" It's a perfectly, carelessly offhand whisper, and Jensen's just a little too sleepy to hear the edge buried in it. They're lying side-by-side on the double bed in Jared's old room; Jensen may not be quite so quick as he thinks, Jared realizes, since the only reason his momma demanded they stay here was so she could keep an eye on them. And keep them in the room down the hall so any "suspicious activity" would come through loud and clear.  
  
"Huh?" Jensen rolls his head sideways on the pillow to look at Jared. Even in the air conditioning it's nearly eighty and he's not risking more heat by actually turning his body. His eyebrows come together and his mouth hangs open just a little. Jared fights the urge to kiss it. His momma has really good ears.  
  
"Before you tried to steal my car, you said something about the flowers getting shipped..." Jared's not completely conscious himself, but if he doesn't mention this now, he's not going to remember. He wants to know what Jensen was talking about; he's got a little gnawing in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Well, you don't--" Jensen's weight shifts just a bit, onto his arm so he can lean a little toward Jared. "You don't think we're getting married _here_ , do you?" And wow, that was not how he meant to phrase it, but it's out of his mouth and he's too sleepy to tense up.  
  
Jared actually full-on sits up, twists his torso and looks down at Jensen. "Why wouldn't we? Jen, it's home. I'm not getting married anywhere's not home."  
  
Jensen hears the catch in his voice this time, and reaches out an arm to touch him, but Jared gets up off the bed. "Hey, don't..."  
  
"No, really. I know your dad's big in your church, and I know you think San Antonio's some kinda backwater, but this is home." His whispers are getting steadily louder, and Jensen thinks he'd better do something pretty damn quick or risk the wrath of Ms. Sharon.  
  
"Hey," he hisses. "Hey. Calm down, okay?" Jensen imagines this must look pretty strange -- he's on the bed half-covered in a sheet, propped up by one arm, staring at Jared, who's glaring at him and looks to be on the verge of pacing.  
  
"I'll calm _you_ down..." Jared begins, then catches Jensen's face, contorted from a visible effort not to laugh. He exhales, then snickers. "Yeah, okay, that was kinda ridiculous. Laugh it up, funnyboy."  
  
The next morning, after Jared untangles himself from Jensen and swears for the eighty-seventh time that he's going to find a way to tie Jensen down at night, he remembers their almost-fight. He slides off of the bed and stretches, pressing back against the ceiling when it invades his personal space. Somehow there's going to be a reckoning over this, but not now. Jared slips on a shirt and a pair of jeans and heads down to the kitchen, where he can hear his momma at work, making pancakes.  
  
"Well look who's up!"  
  
"Morning, momma," and he folds her in his arms and kisses her on the top of her head.  
  
"You boys sleep well last night?"  
  
Jared stiffens a little, which he hopes his momma doesn't catch. "Like logs. Nothing like the heat for that."  
  
"It was a little warm yesterday, wasn't it?" She pulls away and smiles. "And how is Jeannette down the florist's?" His mouth twists a little at that and she notices. "Honey, what?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"JT, what have I told you about lying to your momma."  
  
"It's nothing, momma. Just. Nothing." He turns away from her and takes a step or two towards to the coffee pot. "Jeannette was great; I think she's gonna work out really well." His voice is flat and he knows his momma wants to ask, but he doesn't want to say anything. He knows she'll hold an ace up her sleeve way longer than he will, and he doesn't want this to be that ace.  
  
They're distracted by an elephant on the stairs. Jensen turns the corner into the hallway between the staircase and the kitchen and the corners of Jared's mouth turn up a little. Jensen's managed jeans and a shirt, which is more than Jared can usually get him into before noon. The fact that the shirt is on backwards and he's still rubbing sleep from his eyes tugs a little at Jared. "Here, have some coffee," his momma says, and hands Jensen a mug.  
  
"God bless you, Ms. Sharon." Jared wants to tell him that he can lay off the parent-charming, but he thinks it might not be an act, when coffee is involved. His momma smiles and gives him a gentle shove in the direction of the pot, where Jared's still standing. "Morning," Jensen says, and leans in for the coffee. He's on automatic and after he's poured himself a mug, he steps up on his tiptoes and kisses Jared, right in front of God and Jared's momma.  
  
***  
  
"And who is the lovely bride?"  
  
Jared coughs. "It's, um." He turns about sixteen shades of crimson and stammers out "my costar."  
  
The wedding planner's brow wrinkles and she thinks for a few seconds before she turns her smile back on and says, "Oh, that menacing blonde girl! She's not someone I'd have matched you with, but congratulations!" It's such a genuine happiness that Jared feels like a heel for telling her the truth.  
  
"Actually, well. It's."  
  
"Hey, what'd I miss? Have you gone over invitations yet?" Jensen's voice arrives just a moment before he does, and Jared's face tells the wedding planner everything she needs to know.  
  
"Jensen, this is Cherie, the wedding planner my momma found, and Cherie, this is Jensen," he begins.  
  
"Your costar!" she says, and she rises from the couch to meet him.  
  
Jensen turns on the charm with a handshake and a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."  
  
Cherie doesn't even bat an eyelash. "And for me too, honey. Have you been measured for your dress? With a tan like yours, I'm sure you'll look _stunning_ in white."  
  
For the first time since he's known him, Jared sees Jensen in shock. His mouth actually does the whole opening-and-closing thing with no words coming out, which is what really sets Jared off. Two or three minutes later, he's still grinning crazily and wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh my god, Jen, you should have seen..."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Now can we get some of this done?"  
  
"Look who's Mister Serious all of a sudden. Lighten up, man, it was just a joke."  
  
***  
  
"What is my boy hiding from me, Jensen?" Ms. Sharon, seated at the kitchen table, looks at Jensen over a stack of sample AP tests.  
  
In the hour since breakfast, Jensen hasn't done all that much other than avoid being alone in a room with Jared's momma. He'd rather not be interrogated, and has been feeling vaguely uneasy since they arrived. Now he knows why. "I'm sorry?"  
  
She puts her pen down and rests her chin on her hand. "I know Jared, and he doesn't usually hold out on me. But I asked him this morning what was wrong, and he wouldn't say. Trouble in paradise?" There's a heavy undertone of "what have you done to my son?" that Jensen couldn't miss if he tried.  
  
"As far as I know, things are just fi--" He stops, cut off by the look she shoots him.  
  
"Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to _make_ you tell me what's wrong? Believe me, I'm not going to sit here and let Jared do something he'll regret."  
  
"You don't like me very much, do you?"  
  
She reels back as if slapped. "Where did that come from?"  
  
"Chalk it up to men's intuition." Jensen's face is impassive.  
  
"No, I..." She pauses, clearly dismayed, picks up her marking pen and clicks it a couple times. Then she laughs, briefly. "You know, you're wrong. I like you a lot, Jensen. But Jared's... he's special, and I don't want anything to happen to him. And I know you love him; I can tell. It's hard to watch, sometimes, because people are stupid and don't think a lot for themselves and don't know, but a mother can see when her kid is in love." She smiles crookedly and Jensen can see the outline of Jared's grin in her face. "I just want to know what he's not telling me; why you two aren't doing your 'joined at the hip' dance."  
  
Jensen shifts awkwardly on the couch. "It's. He."  
  
"You can tell me; I'm his momma, what's the worst that could happen?"  
  
"I could end up walking to Richardson."  
  
"Surely you have a credit card!" She grins.  
  
Jensen laughs at that. "Yeah." He looks at the floor between his knees. "I told him... I told him I didn't think we should get married here."  
  
"Well, that would set him off..."  
  
"I didn't mean, like, San Antonio. I meant Texas. I wanted it to be Vancouver. It's home, for most of the year, at least now that season three is definite, and..." He shrugs. "He kind of blew up about it -- thought I was saying Dallas is so much better than San Antone, that kind of thing. He thinks I think he's a hick."  
  
Jared's momma is quiet for a minute, then says, "I hear Vancouver is very nice in late summer," and Jensen can actually feel the weight lift off his shoulders. "I'm not thrilled, of course; having it in my own backyard would be better." She laughs. "I can just imagine that! But of course, you'd have to put that off until November at the earliest if you wanted it down here, and you'll be working. I guess this way it's best for everyone -- at least we're not fighting the 'best part of Texas' battle."  
  
"Can you, uh."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you help me make him understand? He's not the easiest person in the world to convince."  
  
She laughs then, fully, throwing her head back in a way that is so incredibly familiar. "Jensen, I raised that boy. I know exactly how stubborn he can be. And you can be sure I know how to handle him. Leave this one to me."  
  
***  
  
Jensen isn't completely sure how she does it, but Jared's momma has a talk with Jared and then he comes into their room that night, while Jensen is reading in bed, all, "So I was thinking maybe we should have the wedding in Vancouver." Jensen grins.  
  
"You mean after all the big deal you made about getting married at home?" The fake incredulity drips off his voice, but the smile never leaves his face.  
  
"Yeah, I guess that was..." Jared runs his fingers through his hair and scratches the back of his head. "That was kinda stupid, huh?"  
  
"Nah, it was just -- I got it, you wanted it here. You wanted family and you wanted familiar stuff. That's... I'm with you on that. But we pretty much live in Vancouver, somebody's folks are gonna have to travel no matter where we have it, and if we go up north we won't have my six thousand second-cousins flooding the reception."  
  
Jared makes a face. "Your family is weird."  
  
"Not as weird as your mom."  
  
"Don't you talk about my momma when she's not here." Jared smacks Jensen on the arm, lightly, but still enough to sting.  
  
"Ow. Dude, come on; she did the whole mind-reader thing on me."  
  
"Of course she did; she's a mom." Jared laughs and Jensen tosses his book on the floor and pulls at the front of Jared's shirt, yanking Jared down on top of him.  
  
"Yeah, and she and your daddy aren't here right now." Jensen's hand is still twisted in Jared's shirt and Jensen pushes up from where he's lying, flipping Jared onto his back. Jared has the wind knocked out of him and he breathes out heavily, hot on Jensen's lips. "You know how long it's been since I got to fuck you?" Jensen asks, lower and a little deeper than before.  
  
"Jesus," Jared grunts from under him, and Jared squirms, but Jensen's still on top of him, and it's hard to breathe.  
  
"Too goddamn long, that's how. And your momma's not here, so I'm gonna fuck you long and slow, and then I'm gonna blow you until you go blind." There's a definite raspy edge to Jensen's voice now, and he can feel Jared respond. Jensen slides his hands down and cups Jared's crotch through his jeans, squeezes. Jared grunts, and Jensen releases his hold, only to grind his hips down on Jared's, pressing the two of them together to the point where he can feel Jared's cock with his own, even through the layers of boxers and worn denim.  
  
There's that perpetually half-awkward moment of realizing that yes, their clothes really do need to migrate to the floor, but a minute or so and a few squirts of lube later, Jensen's rubbing a slick finger around Jared's hole, teasing him -- Jensen won't go as far as Jared will ("My tongue up your ass? _Shit_ , no -- but you can do it to me anytime."), but his fingers do just fine. While Jensen toys with Jared's ass--one finger, two fingers, none, two again, just one brushing lightly against his prostate--Jensen brings his face down to Jared's chest and runs the flat of his tongue over Jared's nipple. Jared's hands are on his thighs and he's breathing heavy, but with that one action his hand comes up and tangles intself in Jensen's hair, pushing him farther south. Jensen resists, taking his time tracing calligraphy on Jared's chest and abs, leaving precise kisses as punctuation and occasionally teasing with his teeth.  
  
"Fuck, Jen. Just." Jared lifts his head up to see Jensen's tongue dancing around his navel, and then with a quick motion nipping at the skin there. Jared grunts. "You gonna just tease me all night?" he pants out. "'Cause if you do, I'm gonna nail you to the floor next time so hard you'll be walking funny 'til--" Jared's protests die then, turning into a stream of barely-vocalized want, as Jensen grins and takes Jared in his mouth while thrusting three fingers into Jared's ass.  
  
Jensen continues his relentless onslaught, alternately pulling Jared's cock deep in his throat and releasing it so he can lazily tickle the underside of the head with his tongue. It's an even greater surprise, then, when Jensen withdraws from Jared completely and slides his lube-slicked fingers over his own cock. He guides it to rest between Jared's asscheeks and Jared pushes toward him, trying to get Jensen back inside him. Jensen locks eyes with Jared and pushes into him, slowly, despite Jared's insistence. When his hips are flush with Jared's ass, his cock buried deep, Jensen leans forward and hooks his hand around the back of Jared's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.  
  
It's a frantic, deep one, and as their tongues meet, Jensen's hips start to move. Jared raises his arms to Jensen's shoulders and holds himself up, freeing Jensen's hands to wrap around Jared's cock, to caress his chest. There are breathless declarations in each other's mouths; hands on skin, utterly caught in the moment; and then Jensen breaks the kiss and breathes against Jared's cheek, "When we're married I'm gonna do this to you every day of the week, and twice on Sundays." He doesn't change his rhythm on Jared's cock, but Jared comes, hard, and his ass muscles clench down on Jensen's cock.  
  
Jensen loses his careful setup, then, the added tightness of Jared's ass drawing his orgasm out of him. His hips pull back and slam home with a fury, and Jared can barely keep breath in his body with the stars that slide across his vision. Jared dips his finger in one of the puddles of come on his chest and brings it up to Jensen's mouth. Jensen sucks Jared's finger into his mouth and comes with the taste of Jared on his tongue and the feel of Jared on his cock.  
  
They clean up in breathless silence and when Jensen finally speaks it's only to tell Jared to turn out the light. It's too warm to sleep curled around one another, but Jensen slips his hand into Jared's and gives a squeeze; when Jared squeezes back, Jensen rolls onto his side and closes his eyes, a smile on his face.  
  
***  
  
"Absolutely not."  
  
"Dad, it's not your choice."  
  
"I'm your father, and I'm not going to let you--"  
  
"Let me what?"  
  
"Let you make a liar out of me. How can you be steadfast in your faith and do this?"  
  
"What, you think I'm gonna stop going to church?"  
  
"As if any church would let you in the front door if you go through with this... this insane plan."  
  
"It's not a 'plan', Dad, it's a wedding. People 'go through with' them all the time. Hell, you did, and they didn't stop you from going to church every five minutes."  
  
"Don't you dare compare my wedding to your mother with this blasphemy."  
  
"Yeah, speaking of Mom, is she around?"  
  
"She has nothing to say to you."  
  
"Oh, I think she probably does. Just put her on the phone, okay?"  
  
"If she wants to talk to you, she can call you herself." Click.  
  
Jensen's face tightens up and he looks at the phone in his hand, imagining the exact shape it would make if he threw it through the wall. Jared wanders into the room slapping his pockets. "Jen, have you seen my... shit, what happened?"  
  
"Called my dad."  
  
"So, about as bad as you expected?"  
  
"Or maybe a little worse."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So what's the plan?"  
  
"How do you feel about another couple days in Texas?"  
  
***  
  
There's a thud from two rooms away and Jared looks up with a start.  
  
"Oh, they're just getting started."  
  
"Really? I mean, it sounds like one of them's throwing stuff; that can't be good, can it?"  
  
"Jared, if there's one thing you're going to have to learn if you're sticking around, it's that when Alan says he's going to throw the book at you, it means duck." Jensen's mother, doing needlepoint and looking completely unperturbed, laughs. "I'd imagine that was one of the twelve or thirteen Bibles we keep in the house. Probably with Leviticus 18:22 highlighted, underlined, and circled."  
  
"You don't sound fazed by any of this." Jared stands up and starts for the doorway.  
  
"Don't bother." When he turns around, Ms. Donna is shaking her head. "They go through this every so often. The first time, when Jensen wanted to start modeling? I was terrified; I thought the house was going to come apart. By the time he graduated and wanted to become an actor, I knew when to shut my ears off and let them have at it."  
  
Jared looks at her a little more cautiously. "You know I wasn't only talking about what's going on in the other room."  
  
"Then what were you talking about?" she asks, blandly. She doesn't look up, just keeps placing each stitch where it should be.  
  
"I mean why are you taking this so much better?"  
  
"Oh, don't get me wrong -- I'm not thrilled about the two of you hooking up, legally or not. In the back of every mother's mind is something about how she wants her son to end up with the perfect girl and have baseball teams worth of grandkids. This is basically a slap in our faces; Jensen knows how important faith is to both of us." Her disapproval is so offhanded that Jared's more than a little confused.  
  
"So why are you so..."  
  
"So what?" She lowers the needlepoint to her lap and looks up at Jared, exasperated. "So accommodating? Jensen's a big boy. He's almost thirty. I'm not happy with his path, and I'm not happy about your relationship, but I stand behind my son. He's old enough to make his own decisions and not have his father standing over him all the time." She shakes her head a little and raises the fabric closer to see where she needs to stitch next. "I say if you two screw up, and I think you're going to, learn to deal with the consequences."  
  
Now that, Jared thinks, is not exactly the ringing endorsement he'd hoped for. "You're gonna be a heck of a set of in-laws," he says, and instantly wishes he could take it back.  
  
Jensen's mother laughs. "Yeah, but we do one heck of a barbecue."  
  
***  
  
When word begins to spread like wildfire among their coworkers, family, and close friends, Jensen gets a call on set that the PA says is an emergency. Fearing the worst -- a stroke for his momma, a heart attack for his daddy -- he grips the phone and grunts out a cursory "yeah?"  
  
"How's that any way to greet your best man?" Chris is drawling something fierce, which means he's either drunk or visiting his parents.  
  
"Fuck you, you fucker. I thought this was important." Jensen's shouting in exasperation, but there's a nervous laugh over it all that belies just how relieved he is.  
  
"Not important? It's the biggest fucking day of your life, junior; you bet it's damn important."  
  
"Did you have anything real to say, or did you just call to fuck with me? 'Cause I'm kind of working, here. You know, what us people who aren't world-famous musicians have to do. Oh, wait..."  
  
Chris growls. "I was calling to find out where you wanted your bachelor party, but with an attitude like that, I'm calling all the shots. And shots there will be. So long, sucker." Click.  
  
That, Jensen realizes, was not one of the smarter moves he's ever made.  
  
***  
  
The important thing, Jensen thinks, is to tell himself that he never asked Chris to be his best man. So if this whole party goes up in flames, denial might be the best policy. He pulls his jean jacket out of the hall closet and slips it on.  
  
Jared comes up behind him. "You really think it was a good idea, putting Chris and Chad in charge of this?"  
  
Jensen snorts. "'Cause Chad's doing anything for this -- you know it's all Chris."  
  
"So, what, my friends are chopped liver?"  
  
"Jare, it's Chad." He thinks for a second, then adds, "And Chris."  
  
"Good point. You want me to--"  
  
"I'll drive." Jensen pulls his keys out of his pocket. "That way, I have an excuse for stopping at shot number three hundred." Jared pulls the door open and they take the elevator down three flights to the garage. Jensen clicks the unlock button on his keychain, pulls the diver's side door open, and lets out a low "goddammit."  
  
"What?" Jared hasn't made it all the way around the car yet, but when he does, he looks in and sees the brand-new shiny red Club spread across Jensen's steering wheel. "Cute." He turns around to peer in the window of his own car and chuckles. "Same thing over here."  
  
There's a running motor coming closer; Jensen turns around to see who it is and is greeted by a limousine, trying its best to maneuver in the underground lot. The passenger's side window rolls down and the driver says, "Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki?" Jensen groans.  
  
Jared, ever the polite one, confirms their identities and they get in the back of the limo. The privacy screen is up already; Jensen half-heartedly wonders what the driver knows. "Chris must want to get you fucking plastered," Jared says with a grin.  
  
"Son of a bitch. You gonna make sure I drink enough water this time?" Jensen rubs his temples remembering Chris's last little soirée.  
  
"Only 'cause you bitch so much about hangovers." Jared's smile is huge and Jensen smacks him in the chest. Jared grabs Jensen's hand where it lands and hauls him in, snaking his arm around Jensen's shoulders and kissing him with that smiling mouth.  
  
Quieter now, Jensen grins back. "Only 'cause we can't all drink as much as you do without feelin' in the morning."  
  
"Hey, what can I say; I'm a big boy." Jared tries to smirk that out, dirty it up, but he fails and they both wind up belly-laughing, half-leaning into one another on the limo's back bench seat.  
  
***  
  
Somewhere around shot number six, which had followed shots number five, four, and three--nameless mostly-alcohol drinks four through one--a six-pack of beer, and shots two and one, Jensen manages to find Jared again. He'd been taken by Chad right after they'd entered the club, when Jensen had been grabbed by Chris and Steve and frog-marched into the VIP room, and Jensen hasn't seen him since. Jared's beaming. Beaming and slightly glassy.  
  
"You know, I haven't had this much fun since... uh. When's the last time we did this?"  
  
Jensen, not wholly on top of things himself, manages, "I think maybe we shouldn't have intr-- inter-- fuck. We shouldn't have put Chris and Chad together on this one."  
  
Jared guffaws. "You afraid you're gonna drown? Drowning in booze doesn't seem like such a bad way to go."  
  
"Nah, I'm afraid Chad'll marry Chris if they talk too much."  
  
Jared swings his arm in Jensen's direction and misses. They both laugh.  
  
"Jenny!"  
  
"Fuck, more shots. You're coming with me this time," Jensen says, and grabs Jared by the wrist. Ten seconds later, he finds he's still pulling to no effect; Jared's not moving. Instead, he's snickering and snorting and laughing himself stupid because Chad's pulling on his other arm.  
  
"Jenny!" This time Chris is louder, which means he's going to be even more pissed when Jensen finally gets there.  
  
"Go drink with your country boys, short man. I got a date to arrange between Jared and his age in Jell-o shots," Chad snarks, and Jensen looks at him like he'd peg him between the eyes with a BB gun just to see Chad dance in pain.  
  
"He only gets to date _me_!" Jensen says, quite vehemently, his thumb pointed mostly at his chest.  
  
"It's okay, this is just a one-night stand; it's his last fling before you turn into a ball and chain. Go see Chris; he's got a game he wants you to play." Barely holding in his grin, Chad drags Jared off leaving Jensen to contemplate twenty-four Jell-o shots.  
  
"Jenny!" Chris appears in the doorway, face flushed and eyes twinkling. "Come on now, play a game I just thought up," he says, and picks Jensen up in a fireman's carry and takes him in back.  
  
It turns out his game is called Tequila Sunrise, and involves drinking tequila until the sun rises. Around four-thirty, Jensen commandeers a toilet and pukes up enough alcohol to render himself dead. And then, in the great spirit of bachelor parties since the invention of alcohol, he does it all again.  
  
***  
  
"Now remember, if you get nervous -- and you will -- just imagine Jared in his undies."  
  
There's a pause. "What, so horny is better than nervous?"  
  
"Way, way better." Chris slaps Jensen on the ass. "There, now, try angry instead."  
  
"Sorry, still horny," Jensen snarks back.  
  
Chris guffaws. "Sounds about right." He raises his eyebrow at Jensen. "You sure about this, Jen?"  
  
"Shit, no." Jensen thrusts his hands in his pockets and breathes out. "But more sure than about anything else in a long time, so I figure it's a good guess."  
  
"Well do right by that boy, wash behind your ears, and all that other parental shit, 'cause I know your daddy isn't gonna get all heart-to-heart with you."  
  
"Yeah, well don't yammer on too long, gramps; I'm kind of getting hitched in a few minutes."  
  
"You respect your elders, son." Chris says, but only halfheartedly; he's too busy looking Jensen over, nothing but pride and smiles in his eyes.  
  
Ten minutes later, he's got his eye on the crack between the doors; when Jared's little cousin walks down the aisle with flowers in her hair, he pulls a flask from his jacket and passes it to Jensen. "Showtime, Jenny boy. Do it right, you hear?" They slug back a swallow apiece and walk into the church.  
  
***  
  
"Now look, your palms are gonna get sweaty, your face is gonna flush, and you're gonna feel like somebody's just shot you in the stomach with a cannon. That's normal." Chad ticks off nervous conditions on his fingers as he tries to think of ways to fix Jared's lopsided bowtie.  
  
"Uh, great." Jared's tying and re-tying his shoes. "It gets better, right?"  
  
"Nope. You get to live with that feeling for the rest of your life."  
  
"Okay, now I know you're not speaking from experience."  
  
"Hey, no need to get mad just because I've done this before."  
  
"Twice."  
  
"Twice." Chad's smile is a little smug, a little abashed, and a whole lot of exactly what Jared needs right now.  
  
"So, uh, thanks for--"  
  
"Don't mention it." A little more smug, and definitely a gleam of something in his eye.  
  
"And if you even think of making me do this for wedding number seven, I will personally hire Chris to manage your bachelor party."  
  
"Dammit."  
  
"Right, do I get to go out there yet?"  
  
"Kelsey just finished walking. You ready?"  
  
"As I'll ever be." Jared bounces on the balls of his feet and lets out a few quick breaths before brushing his hair away from his face and straightening the tie Chad failed to fix. "Fuck it, let's go."  
  
Chad pushes the door open.  
  
***  
  
Jensen eases his feet out of the patent-leather shoes and winces. Jared's hopping around on one leg, trying to take his pants off and amusing the hell out of Jensen. "You know, you could do that sitting down."  
  
"Whoever invented pants should be shot."  
  
"Fine by me," Jensen says, and smirks.  
  
Jared sits down and yanks the offending garment off. "Yeah, I bet. How long until I can fuck you and make it official?"  
  
"Exasperation shouldn't be a turn-on, right?" Jensen's little smirk has widened to a grin.  
  
"Ha fucking ha."  
  
"Yeah, well, we've got a party to throw. We can disappear about halfway through Chris's set; that way he can only kill half of us." Jensen slides on a nice pair of jeans and buttons up a black shirt.  
  
"Half of us is you." Jared's got his arms folded across his chest.  
  
"Yeah, well at least I've got clothes on." Jensen pauses. "On second thought, don't change that," he says, taking in the curve of Jared's back, his ass, his shoulders.  
  
Jared's the one smirking now. "So we can skip the party? 'Cause I'm sure as hell not walking out there in boxers."  
  
"You did in a towel on TV."  
  
"That's different and you know it."  
  
"So put on something less tacky than you usually wear and let's go."  
  
"You did not just insult my wardrobe."  
  
"I've been doing that for months; why stop now?"  
  
"Oh, I'll show you." Jared pulls out the tackiest, most garishly pink button-down he can think of and throws his head back in laughter when he sees Jensen's eyes widen in terror.  
  
"You are not wearing that piece of shit."  
  
"Aww, you think we're married and you get to pick out my clothes? How fifties."  
  
"Shut up and put on something that doesn't clash with itself."  
  
***  
  
Jared has to admit, Jensen's mom was right about one thing: his family can barbecue like nobody's business. With Jensen's dad manning the grill, there's a steady stream of food passed out and people are already clamoring for seconds even before Chris and Steve drag their stuff out onto the porch to set up for their set.  
  
Finding a place for the reception had turned out to be a matter of telling Eric they were getting married; turns out his uncle's cousin's something-or-other owns a big house on an even bigger lot not far southeast of the city, and was only too happy to offer it to them for the weekend. It's got a great wrap-around porch with a wide deck for dancing and all the regular kind of reception-y stuff.  
  
They're playing it cooler than they usually do, not too much with the hugging and touching and grabass they usually pull, and Jared's itching to lay a really long hot one on Jensen, really scandalize Jen's dad. He gets his chance twenty minutes later.  
  
Chris starts out with some faster stuff and really gets everybody in the mood they're looking for: wedding reception or not, this here's a party, and between the barbecue, salads, sides, and enough alcohol to choke several dozen horses, by god he's gonna make people have a good time. He and Steve drag Jensen up onstage to harmonize on a couple of songs, and though he blushes furiously, he's clearly enjoying himself. Jared watches and grins into his cup of beer. Then there's hands pushing Jared from behind, and Tom and Chad lift him bodily and dump him on the porch.  
  
"Y'all know what comes next, right?" Chris says, and Jared's mind is racing. When he sees the deer-in-headlights look on Jensen's face, he knows it's the first dance. Shit.  
  
"Thought we weren't gonna do this," Jared mutters, and Jensen's jaw tightens as he nods.  
  
Chris laughs. "Can't get out of it, boys. Now here you go." He and Steve play through some song Jared can't remember even as he hears it, except that it's kinda slow and he feels everyone's eyes on him.  
  
There are a couple of awkward moments at the beginning where the mental cogs go "I'm the boy, so my hands go on his waist, but he's the boy, so his hands go on _my_ waist, and...", but Jared finally begins to loosen up halfway through the song and he says, low and for Jensen's ears only, "This part kinda sucks."  
  
"Yeah, you're not the shorter one; they're all thinking right now about how much of a pussy I am."  
  
"Oh, whatever."  
  
"Bite me."  
  
"I'd rather do this." Jared leans down the couple inches between them and kisses a startled Jensen. A cheer goes up from the crowd, and Jared can hear Chris break off his lyrics to say "attaboy" before going back to the song.  
  
Not to be outdone, Jensen goes up on tiptoe and kisses Jared back, a little more fiercely. They've abandoned all pretense of dancing at this point, and just kiss and laugh until the end of the song a minute later. When the last chord comes, Chris turns to them and says, "Just admit it; neither of you can dance, can you?" That gets a laugh, and it's exactly what the party needs to roll into high gear.  
  
Jared takes a minute to look around and make sure everybody's having a good time, then heads over to where his family's standing, somewhat awkwardly, with Jensen's. He breaks into their little circle of disgruntled relatives by being his usual self: all smiles and hugs and handshakes, laughing a little on the loud side, and shooting as much charm as he can at Jensen's parents. The tension loosens and by the time he leaves to greet Kim and the group from the show, the Ackleses and the Padaleckis are telling jokes and arguing about sports in a way that suggests they may not call each other every weekend, but that they'll come around to getting along. Jared gets a wink from Jensen's sister and a surreptitious thumbs-up from his momma, and that's enough for him.  
  
Half a dozen songs and as many beers later, Jared snags Jensen, who signals Chris.  
  
"Alright, our boys are gonna take off now for parts unknown, so let's give 'em a heck of a send-off and then get back to the important stuff: the booze and the party." There's more laughter and cheers, and Jared shoves Jensen through the door to the house with a grin. They pass through the kitchen and the living room, and Jared notes the pile of gifts stacked up there as he and Jensen stumble over one another up the stairs to the master bedroom.  
  
Jared closes the bedroom door behind himself and tackles Jensen to the bed. "So do I get to--"  
  
"Not yet, dumbass, we've gotta--"  
  
He breathes in along Jensen's neck. "Fuck the honeymoon; you said--"  
  
"What are you, five? Come on, get your shit and let's go."  
  
Reluctantly, Jared gathers up his things and jams them in his suitcase. He doesn't even have to look over to know that Jensen's is neatly packed and zipped up and ready to go. When his suitcase is closed, he just grabs it and hefts it, not bothering with the wheels. "Ready?"  
  
"We're out of here." Jensen pulls the door behind them and Jared stops dead. "What?"  
  
"Almost forgot," Jared says, and puts down his suitcase. Jensen sets his back off its wheels and looks up at Jared, annoyed.  
  
"What this time?"  
  
Jared slams him up against the wall. "To tell you I want to fuck you just as much now as when we first met. And that's a hell of a lot." He kisses Jensen right there, flush with the wall, Jared's hand spread and bracing himself as his tongue meets Jensen's.  
  
When they break the kiss and Jared picks up his bag again, grinning ear-to-ear, Jensen's still a little dazed. He looks up at Jared bemusedly and says, "I knew there was a reason I married you."


End file.
